He had stepped into the office to mail Gussie's valentine, and was much
surprised when a beautiful envelope was placed in his hands. It held
something very sweet and delicate, no doubt, and as he turned aside he
pressed it to his lips.
Observing the name of Shadrach, he felt sure it must have come from Gussie;
no one else knew his second name, so she must have sent this sweet
love-token. It was hardly fair to write out his name in full; but, of
course, it was only done to make known the identity of the sender. He
thrust it into his pocket and hastened to his hotel, where in the privacy
of his own room he could enjoy it without interruption. The loving words he
expected to find were certainly there, yet as he read them a dark frown
gathered on his brow:
"Dear Danuel Shadrach! thy valentine speaks,
While the rosy red blushes surmantle her cheeks;
And the joys of requital brings tears to her eye.
Now, Shadrach! my Shadrach! I'm yours till I die.
"The heart that was scornful and cold as a stone,
Rejoices to hear the sweet sound of your name;
Farewell to the miseries and griefs I have had,
But I cannot forget them! dear Shadrach! my Shad!
"Dear Shadrach! my Shadrach! my troubles are o'er,
My name in its fulness you'll whisper no more;
Or your own sweet cognomen will make you feel sad,
For I hold the whip-handle! Oh Shadrach! my Shad!"
Mr.
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